


Wayside Back in Time

by Bluebluebaby



Category: Jane the Virgin
Genre: AU, F/F, Real!Susanna
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-08-14 00:21:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7991737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluebluebaby/pseuds/Bluebluebaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which: <br/>Susanna is real. Rose didn't know Susanna was real. Luisa didn't know that Rose didn't know that Susanna was real, either, AND SHE IS PISSED.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you're as excited about this as me! 
> 
> gonna be a long haul, multi-chap, but i sure as hell don't write ahead of time so this is all i have at the moment. 
> 
> aiming for a chapter every 2 weeks, but could be faster if i get in the swing of things/pupcake loses its appeal (it will never, sorry not sorry).

_ MotherFUCKER.  _

 

Susanna’s head hasn’t hurt this much since pledge week freshman year. 

 

(In retrospect, attempting to binge drink into heteronormativity via Delta Gam had been a mistake in more ways than one, but the hangover was certainly an unforgettable experience.) 

 

She’s  _ never _ agreeing to take an undercover assignment again. 

 

Trying to ignore the pounding in her skull and the aches all over her body (did she lose a fight? What in the hell has happened over the past two days?), Susanna blearily opens her eyes. 

 

She’s in an immaculate white room, inelegantly splayed out across a chaise longue.

 

_ Kidnapped by Barbara Streisand. What a way to go.  _

 

Susanna cautiously stands, steadying herself with one arm on the headrest as she wills the room to stop spinning. 

 

_ Step 1: Find a bathroom.  _

 

There is, fortunately, a half-bath attached to the corner of this suite, and Susanna splashes icy water on her face in an attempt to awaken her senses. 

 

(She just ends up looking like a drowned rat.) 

 

There is, unfortunately, only one door  _ out  _ of this suite, and it is locked tighter than the jaws of a snapping turtle. She’s got absolutely nothing to pick the lock with, and something tells her a bobby pin wouldn’t cut it right now. 

 

Dejectedly, Susanna stumbles back to the damn fancy couch to attempt to piece together how she got here and how the hell she’s going to get out. 

_ 

 

In minutes, or hours (probably not days, seeing as she’s still awake), the door opens, and  _ the most beautiful  _ woman Susanna has ever seen waltzes into the room. 

 

(She met Belle at Disney World when she was six, but this lady makes her look like the beast.) 

 

“Detective Barnett,” Poison Ivy-meets-the-Stepford-Wives purrs,”Has anyone ever told you you aren’t supposed to exist?” 

 

Susanna raises an eyebrow. 

 

“My stepdad wasn’t too happy when I came out, so, believe it or not, you’re not the first, Ms…” 

 

“Don’t worry about my name, Detective. You won’t need it.” 

 

Before Susanna can move there’s a gun trained on her forehead. 

 

She’s frozen in fear (acceptance?) as porcelain-wrapped marble forearms tense to pull the trigger, when suddenly, the door opens, and a blood-curdling scream rings out. 

_ 

 

The gun lowers, and Susanna feels herself being forgotten as murder barbie turns to the interruption. 

 

“Luisa!” she hisses, “what are you doing here?” 

 

The source of the scream (an extremely distraught brunette, apparently named Luisa,) answers “I got hungry, and I was waiting for you to come back to bed, but it took a long time, and I wanted to make sure you were alright-” before her mouth gapes open and she stares at Susanna like she’s seen a ghost. 

 

“Oh my god. You’re  _ real.”  _

 

Maybe it’s the remnants of whatever drug in her system, or the realization that she will probably die here regardless of what she says, but Susanna has officially stopped giving a fuck about manners. 

 

(If she ever sees her mother again, she will be sure to apologize profusely.) 

 

“You know, I would honestly be incredibly relieved to find out that this is all a dream and I am a figment of someone’s imagination.” 

 

Luisa looks at her in confusion before turning back to the psychopath in a pencil skirt. 

 

“ _ ROSE.  _ I swear to god if you kill her, I will never have sex with you again.” 

 

Rose crosses her arms and frowns, turning to effectively ignore Susanna. 

 

“I’ve killed lots of people. I killed  _ your father.”  _

 

Luisa rolls her eyes. 

 

“That doesn’t stop me from drawing boundaries, Rose. You can’t steal someone’s identity, make me love them, rip off their fake face, and then MURDER THEM IN FRONT OF ME.” 

 

_ Jesus Fuck. There is A LOT of catching up to do here.  _

 

“She’s got some good points… Rose?” Susanna mumbles. 

 

Rose continues to summarily ignore her existence, now that she’s not a target. 

 

“Look, I didn’t know that she was a real person when I assumed her identity. Rodrigo thought he could cut corners by kidnapping a real person, and Rodrigo is now getting very cozy with the bottom of the Everglades. “

 

“I never liked him,” Luisa muses. 

 

“Well, you never liked  _ her,  _ either, because you didn’t  _ KNOW HER.”  _

 

(Okay. This could either save her ass or get her shot right now.  _ Only one way to know. _ )

 

“Hi Luisa, my name is Susanna Barnett. I’m from Alabama, but I’m a lifelong Democrat. I love dogs and playing football with my nephews, and my favorite color is teal. And I am  _ exceptionally  _ glad to make your acquaintance. “

 

She extends a pale arm toward the brunette, hoping the weak gesture is enough. 

 

Luisa assertively closes the gap between them and grasps her clammy hand in her own. 

 

“I’m happy to know you, Susanna.” 

 

She turns and glares daggers at Rose, before stalking off and dragging the redhead in tow. 

_ 

 

“You can’t just keep her here like a lost puppy, Luisa,” Rose grumbles as they return to the bedroom. 

 

“And you can’t just kill everyone because you’re a druglord. You said you would be better, Rose. I can’t believe I believed you.” 

 

Rose sighs. 

 

“Have I done anything since we left Miami? The drugs are gone, the hits are called off, and Derek and Mutter are both behind bars. What more do you want?” 

 

“ I want you to make this right.” 

 

Rose frowns. 

 

“That woman is wanted for attempted murder of a police officer. Killing her now would be a mercy.” 

 

“You don’t get it.” 

 

Luisa shakes her head. 

 

“I’m sleeping on the couch.” 

 

Rose knows better than to apologize again. She stares at the ceiling, counting her sins and wondering why she can’t stop hurting the only woman she’s ever loved. 

_ 

 

Susanna is dozing again when the door opens. For a split second after she wakes, she thinks she’s back in her apartment, crick in her neck from sleeping on the couch after a night of poring over case files and drinking lukewarm beer. 

 

Reality fucking sucks. 

 

“I thought you might be hungry,” Luisa offers, presenting a plate of what appears to be grilled cheese. 

 

“Interesting choice.” 

 

She blushes. 

 

“It’s the only thing I know how to make.” 

 

Susanna gestures to the obviously expensive decorations of the room. 

 

“Don’t yall have like… evil chefs or something?” 

 

Luisa swallows a visible lump in her throat. 

 

“I don’t want any of that stuff right now.” 

 

Susanna nods in understanding. 

 

(It’s maybe the only thing she’s understood in… however long she’s been here.) 

 

“Thanks.” 

 

Luisa looks torn between leaving her to the snack enlightening her on the circumstances of her kidnapping. 

 

“Can I explain?” 

 

“Try me.” 

 

(Apparently sensory deprivation has turned Susanna into a monosyllabic cavewoman.) 

 

Two hours later, Susanna’s head is reeling even more than it was, and she has never been more sorry for or frustrated with a person than she currently is with Luisa Alver. 

 

“So my life has basically been ruined because your girlfriend is a stalker with a revenge streak?” 

 

Luisa’s chin quivers, but she manages a nod. 

 

“I would say ‘it’s complicated,’ but it’s not. I’m pretty much a human disaster. And I’m really sorry that you ever got dragged into this mess.” 

 

Susanna forces a weak smile. 

 

“Well, at least I won’t die on an empty stomach, huh?” 

 

Luisa laughs. 

 

“You know, you’re the first person who’s ever eaten all of my cooking.” 

 

“Well, I am practically starving, you know.” 

_

 

Luisa isn’t stupid. Foolish, maybe. Impetuous, beyond a doubt. But not  _ stupid.  _ She knows Rose is only letting her get away with talking to Susanna out of guilt (which won’t last for long), and that the detective’s chances of survival are slimmer by the day. She also knows that Rose may  _ say  _ that she’s free to leave, but she sure as hell didn’t come here of her own volition, and taking Susanna with her is not really implied in that offer. 

 

But fortunately, she picked up a thing or two in the mental hospital. 

 

Luisa has a whole heap of pills left from the weeks she couldn’t stop sobbing upon waking each morning. (Sin Rostro prefers hard drugs, but she can move prescriptions when the need arises.) 

 

The only temptation Rose can’t resist is her. 

 

Luisa stalks up to Rose in her study, knocking her papers off the desk. 

 

“I needed those you know,” Rose grumbles, but she drops the complaint once she sees Luisa untying her robe. 

 

“I’m sorry, baby,” Luisa growls, moving to straddle Rose in her office chair, “You were right, as usual. Let me make it up to you?” 

 

Rose nods, as she pulls Luisa in for a kiss. 

 

She eagerly parts her lips, and Luisa slips her tongue (and a whole heap of xanax, among other things) into Rose’s open mouth. 

 

Luisa quickly pulls back, clamping Rose’s mouth closed so she’s forced to swallow the pills. 

 

“I really am sorry, love, but this is the only way,” Luisa whispers, kissing Rose’s cheek as her limp body slumps to the floor. 

_ 

 

“Please tell me you have laundry,” Susanna calls out when she hears the lock click again. 

 

“COME ON!” Luisa whispers, dragging her by the arm and quickly leading them through darkened corridors. 

 

“What the fuck, Luisa. Are you trying to get us both killed?” 

 

Her eyes adjust to the dim light and she takes in her comrade’s costumery. 

 

“... wearing a thong and a smile?” 

 

Luisa cinches the belt of her robe tight against her torso, not letting up on her pace whatsoever. 

 

“I’ll explain, but I need you to trust me, or we  _ are  _ both dead, okay?” 

 

“Sure. Okay. I trust you.” 

 

Before she knows it, they’re out a set of heavy double doors into the harsh light of day. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> on the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> plot is not my strong point. kindly forgive me.

 

“ _ Please  _ tell me you have a plan beyond getting out of the trophy wife bunker,” Susanna hisses as Luisa confidently leads them along a nondescript sidewalk in the early morning sun. She takes in the setting in an effort to ascertain where in the world they actually are. 

 

It’s only a few hours after dawn, and yet the sun blazes hotly against her pale skin. She can smell the faintest hint of sea air against the underlying stench of garbage in summer. 

 

Luisa rolls her eyes, and continues to march confidently eastward. 

 

“I have a plan, okay, just follow me.” 

 

A few minutes later, they light upon a nondescript sedan. Luisa reaches under the car to grab the keys from a magnet. 

 

She has really great legs. 

 

(Susanna wouldn’t normally be ogling a practical stranger, but she could be done for at any moment. Might as well enjoy life’s simple pleasures while she still can.) 

 

“Hop in.” 

 

Luisa drives confidently, if erratically. 

 

“And where exactly are we?” 

 

Luisa laughs. 

 

“Miami- Rose loves to hide in plain sight. More opportunities to laugh at the incompetence of men that way.” 

 

It makes sense, from the little she knows of Rose. 

 

“And where are you going?” 

 

“We’re going to the Marbella to find my brother Rafael and explain this whole mess.” 

 

Well  _ fuck.  _

 

“And is that before or after I’m shot on sight for attempted murder of a police officer?” 

 

“But that wasn’t  _ you... _ oh.” 

 

“Yeah. Stop the car.” 

 

Luisa pulls into a secluded alley. 

 

“Did you get any money?”

 

Luisa shakes her head dumbly. 

 

“Change of clothes?” 

 

A helpless shrug. 

 

“Have you told anyone else about your plan?” 

 

At least this time, “no” is the answer Susanna wants. 

 

She prompts Luisa to switch places with her, thankful that at least their getaway car has a full tank of gas. 

 

Luisa huffs as Susanna ignores her in favor of the road. 

 

“Where are  _ you  _ going?” 

 

“Need to know information.” 

 

“Oh wow, that really reassures me.” 

 

Luisa turns away petulantly, crossing her arms as she looks out the window. 

 

A few moments later, Susanna clear her throat. 

 

“Um, actually, it might behoove us both if you directed me toward I-95.” 

 

Luisa raises an eyebrow, waiting expectantly.

 

“I can promise you that we’re going somewhere safe, okay? For better or worse we’re in this together, Luisa. So please, get me on the Interstate so we can at least get some distance.” 

 

Luisa smirks, pointing to the (now) painfully obvious sign directing her to the northbound exit. 

 

If the past half hour is any indication, they are well and truly fucked. 

_

 

Once they cover about a hundred miles, Susanna directs them off the interstate to a small town. She pulls into the parking lot of a pawn shop and looks at Luisa expectantly. 

 

“You don’t have cash, and using a card is pretty much a death sentence. Do you happen to be wearing any jewelry? I know Rose wasn’t cheap.” 

 

Luisa glances down at the pendant on her neck, the bracelet and ring that adorn her left hand. She made the decision to well and truly cut ties this morning, but unclasping the chain feels like ripping her heart right out of her chest. 

 

Susanna softens when she sees Luisa’s eyes beginning to well with tears. 

 

“I know this isn’t easy.” 

 

“She’s a serial killer and an international drug lord. It  _ should _ be easy. “

 

“That doesn’t mean you didn’t love her.” 

 

Susana’s face flashes, as if she’s remembering her own follies. 

 

“I’m not saying I’d rather be with her… but she was the only person other than my mother who ever really believed in me.” 

 

Luisa looks up to meet Susanna’s concerned eyes. 

 

“Other than you,” she laughs, ruefully. “Which, for the record, fake you was a lot nicer.” 

 

Susanna musters a lopsided grin. 

 

“I’ve been a little stressed, I’m afraid. But I’ll try to remember my manners going forward.” 

 

She wraps her hand around Luisa’s to take the jewelry. 

 

“I’ll be quick- for the love of god, please don’t go anywhere.” 

 

Susanna emerges from the shop with a wad of bills. 

 

$500 won’t get them far, but it will get them to Alabama. 

_

 

“I’ve never been in a Walmart in my life, and I’m not entirely sure that it’s worth it to break that streak,” Luisa exclaims as they make their next stop. 

 

“Well, fortunately for you, you’re not going in, seeing as you’re still dressed like a stripper warming up for her first boxing match.” 

 

“I, however, am blessed with blue jeans, so I’m going to get you clothes that look like a normal person.” 

 

Luisa glowers. 

 

“I would hardly call someone who buys clothes from Wal-Mart  _ normal.” _

 

“And the rich wonder why most americans despise them.” 

 

Susanna winces at the tone of her own voice, remembering her earlier promise. 

 

“It’s temporary, I promise.” 

 

Along with a cotton sundress, Susanna purchases a couple of flannels and sweatshirts, along with scissors, sunglasses, and a slouchy hat. Hipster Lesbian is probably only one-step above Groucho Marx glasses when it comes to disguises, but any time they can buy brings them one step closer to someone else (someone helpful) figuring out that Sin Rostro is alive and well and Susanna Barnett is also. Though perhaps considerably behind on the “well” front. 

 

(She hopes Luisa likes trail mix. )

_ 

 

As a child, Susanna loved long road trips. They were one of the only times she could just daydream uninterrupted; when her quietness was a blessing to her parents instead of cause for concern. 

 

(Age 5, finding dragons and unicorns in fluffy white clouds. 

 

Age 8, thinking forward to starting third grade and finally learning long division. 

 

Age 13, wondering what it would feel like to kiss Julie Stewart. )

 

But today, her arms ache with tension, her thighs sore from seizing up each time another car passes. Luisa is either incredibly perceptive or blissfully unaware from her nerves, but she spends much of the drive rambling. 

 

She tells the full story of her and Rose, from the beginning (with all the details. Susanna didn’t know there could  _ be  _ so many details). She contrasts the differences between the Susanna Rose created and the one sitting next to her, and she flirts. 

 

It’s exceptionally inappropriate, and incredibly comforting. 

 

“You’re still just as cute, though.”

 

Susanna reddens. 

 

“ _ Especially _ , when you blush.”

 

“Good to know my mama wasn’t lying to me all these years, I guess.” 

 

Luisa rests her hand on Susanna’s thigh, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and for a moment she allows herself to daydream that this is a normal roadtrip with a beautiful, charming, ridiculous woman, and not a living nightmare. 

_

 

By the time the get to Jacksonville, the talk has run out.  Luisa offers to drive, but Susanna is a control freak at her best moments, and it’s not like she could rest right now anyway. As they head west on I-10, Luisa lapses into a cat nap, snoring softly. The radio stations merge from top 40 into classic country, and Luisa jolts awake at the state line to hear Hank Williams caterwauling. 

 

She yawns crankily.

 

“What the hell is this? Is there a dying animal in the trunk?”

 

“Well, Luisa, you’re not in Miami anymore. Thought I’d try to transition you into the culture shock. Around these parts, folks call that ‘music.’” 

 

Luisa rolls her eyes at Susanna’s exaggerated drawl. 

 

“Well if I wanted to feel that depressed, I would just escape from my toxic relationship with a stranger who I thought I was in love with, who, it just so happens, has  _ terrible  _ taste in music.” 

 

Susanna can’t help but laugh, and Luisa joins in, before fading out to listen as Patsy Cline comes on. 

 

“Okay, this is at least tolerable.” 

 

“Luisa? I think you might just hate men.” 

 

“Guilty.” 

 

She grins conspiratorially. 

 

“But I make up for it with how much I love women. I really, really, love women.” 

_

 

Luisa is fully alert now, taking in the fading sun and open fields of the unfamiliar terrain. 

 

“You know, I’ve never actually driven through the country. We always flew pretty much anywhere past the Everglades.” 

 

“Well, get used to it,” Susanna mutters. 

 

When she turns down a dirt road, Luisa panics a little. 

 

“Okay, Susanna, if you were just looking for a remote place to dump my body all this time, you could have done it a little sooner? Like, don’t do a big buildup before you murder a girl, or at least buy her dinner first?” 

 

“Was the trail mix not good enough?” 

 

“SUSANNA!”

 

“Relax, Luisa.” 

 

Susanna begins to pull the car slowly up a long gravel driveway. 

 

“I’m not going to kill you- I’m going to introduce you to my family.” 

  
For the second time since they’ve met, Luisa lets out a blood-curdling scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i will try to keep updates pretty regular; it still feels a little like writing in the dark after the reveals of the s2 finale, so any feedback (bad is okay too- I love constructive criticism!) would be much appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> exposition exposition exposition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everything about susanna is entirely made up such is the joy of fanfiction. 
> 
> i'm just borrowing luisa tho.

 

As their headlights illuminate a weather-beaten porch, the screen door opens to reveal a stout woman brandishing what appears to be a shotgun. 

 

“Didn’t you read the signs? NO TRESPASSING. We don’t want what you’re selling, now go on and turn around.” 

 

Susanna cuts the engine calmly as Luisa sits frozen in place. 

 

And people thought  _ Rose  _ was scary. 

 

“Granny? It’s me.” 

 

Susanna steps out of the car with her arms held up to prove she’s not threat. 

 

The weapon is forgotten with a loud clatter as the woman moves much faster than her age would indicate to envelop Susanna into a fierce hug. 

 

“Well butter me up and call me a biscuit! We haven’t seen you in years, Susie! What in the world are you doing rolling in here without so much as a word?” 

 

Susanna scuffs her shoe on the gravel, thinking how best to explain. 

 

“I got myself in a bit of trouble-” 

 

“-did you go and get knocked up like your mama? I didn’t think you had it in you honestly-” 

 

Luisa takes this as her cue to make her entrance. 

 

“Granny” raises and eyebrow and gives a knowing smirk. 

 

“Guess not, huh? Who are you, honey?” 

 

Luisa extends a hand meekly. 

 

“Luisa Alver, pleased to meet you.” 

 

“We hug in this family, Luisa, and if Susanna thinks you’re worth bringing around, you’re good as family.” 

 

(Luisa is too smothered by Mrs. Barnett’s arm’s to voice any sort of response.) 

 

“Granny? It’s not like that, I promise.” 

 

“Susanna, you know we don’t give a rat’s ass if you’re a queer or not. Hell, your cousin David has stayed in this town all his life and no one gives him a lick of trouble ‘cause they know I would rip them a new asshole if they even so much as thought about it.” 

 

“And I appreciate that, truly, but Luisa isn’t here because she’s my girlfriend- she’s here because she saved my life.” 

 

Granny steps back, assessing fully how bedraggled the two women look. 

 

“So the other family tradition- getting caught up with the wrong sorts of people.” 

 

She nods solemnly, wheels already turning. 

 

“Come inside, girls, we’ll figure it out.” 

 

Luisa still looks to be in a state of shock, so Susanna gently guides her to the shower and guest room while she and her grandmother figure out their next steps. 

 

“Lucky for you, your great-grandfather was in the business, and I learned a lot from watching him fool the cops and my mama. Tell me what happened.” 

 

As best as she can, Susanna reveals her own kidnapping and imprisonment, Rose’s assumption of her identity and subsequent (maybe) commitment of murder, Luisa’s escape plot, and their current fugitive status. 

 

“Hmmm. I’ve heard worse. You’ll be alright.” 

 

(Granny was always blunt.) 

 

“First thing we need to do is trash that car- the football team is having their pep rally on Friday and they’ll need something to beat the shit out of and set on fire, so that takes care of that. Folks around here trust the law about as much as they trust a fox in a henhouse, so we don’t need to worry about anybody running their mouth. No internet, no cell service to speak of. As long as that girl of yours doesn’t go off and do something stupid y’all will be alright until somebody in Miami figures out what’s going on. Or you’ll spend the rest of your life out here, but hey, better than death or prison, right?” 

 

“I missed you too, Granny.” 

 

Luisa pads gently down the stairs, looking like the world’s saddest clown in the old pair of pajamas Susanna managed to find in the chifferobe. 

 

“Why don’t you ladies get some rest, and we’ll see how to make you useful in the morning. Hope you don’t mind bunking together- I don’t entertain too much company these days.” 

 

Her stern look brooks no argument, and Susanna leads Luisa back up the stairs as Granny sets about covering their tracks. 

_

 

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Susanna offers as she surveys the flimsy quilt atop a sunken twin bed. 

 

Luisa attempts levity. 

 

“Why, you think I’m gonna get handsy in my sleep?” 

 

“No, I know you will.” 

 

Her flimsy facade crumbles, and Luisa feels the dam burst as tears stream down her face. 

 

“I’m sorry, it’s just been a really long day.” 

 

Susanna grabs her hand, gently. 

 

“I know. I would say that everything will be all right, but well…” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

Luisa sniffles. 

 

“You know what the dumbest thing is? I feel  _ homesick _ right now. Like, my life is literally in danger, my family has no idea where I am, and all I want is to be sleeping in my own bed.” 

 

“This is like the world’s worst summer camp, huh?” 

 

Luisa nods, mutely. 

 

Every logical neuron in her brain is saying  _ this is a bad idea _ , but emotion is pretty much all Susanna has right now, so she wraps Luisa in a tight hug. 

 

“I like this better than being suffocated by your grandmother.” 

 

“She probably smelled better than me, though.” 

 

“True,” Luisa concedes, though she makes no effort to move away. 

 

“I like the way  _ you  _ smell though. It’s different.” 

 

“Than fake me? I suppose it would have been a little extra if Rose had synthesized my pheromones, though I wouldn’t put it past her.” 

 

Luisa head is now firmly nestled into Susanna’s slightly-taller shoulder. She can feel her breath on her neck. 

 

“It feels safe,” Luisa mumbles, and the heaviness of her weight in Susanna’s arms belies her exhaustion. 

 

“Let’s get you to bed.” 

 

When Susanna returns from her shower, Luisa is fast asleep. Without opening her eyes, she pulls Susanna close to her, arm across her stomach, unmoving until dawn.  

_

 

It’s been a long time since Susanna has woken to the smell of bacon. 

 

“You’re not one of them hippy vegetarians are you? David says a lot of y’all don’t eat animals.” 

 

“I’m not, but Luisa will have to speak for herself.” 

 

“As a physician, I’m obligated to advise against eating bacon, but as a very hungry person, I will take all that you’ve got.” 

 

“Atta girl.” 

 

Susanna moves to pour a cup of coffee. This day needs caffeine. In spades. 

 

“How do you take your coffee, Luisa?” 

 

“I don’t actually. I’m more of a decaf chai latte sort of gal.” 

 

Granny laughs. 

 

“I’m afraid I don’t have any of that, honey. You’d probably have to go to at least Birmingham to find chai anything.” 

 

“Cream and sugar, then?” 

 

“Sure. Cream and sugar.” 

 

Granny gives them a few minutes to tuck in before presenting her plan. 

 

“Your Sin Rostro had the right idea with hiding in plain sight. I’m not gonna have you two just hanging around the house all day. For one it will drive you and me both crazy, and for two, it’ll attract a lot more attention. David’s running the cafe now, and his waitress and line cook just ran off to Biloxi last weekend, so he’ll need the help.” 

 

She levels a stern glare at Luisa. 

 

“You ever waited tables before?” 

 

“My family  _ owns _ a hotel. I absolutely have not-” 

 

“-What she means to say is thank you for the opportunity, Granny. She’ll be fine,” Susanna retorts, elbowing Luisa under the table. 

 

“Thank you for the opportunity,” Luisa parrots. 

 

“Susanna, I trust you haven’t forgotten how to flip a burger in the past ten years?” 

 

“It’s like riding a bike.” 

 

Granny stands to clear the plates and rinse out the coffee mugs. 

 

“Y’all go and get ready and I’ll drive you into town.” 

_

 

“A pickup truck? Could your family  _ be  _ more cliche,” Luisa hisses as they bounce along the ruts and bumps of the dirt road. 

 

“Says the spoiled rich girl who feels offended by using normal transportation.” 

 

“It’s not my fault that my parents had money.” 

 

“And it’s not my fault that you fell in love with a wanted criminal, now is it?” 

 

“Girls, girls, let’s not start off the day with quarreling. No one’s to blame and we’re all doing the best we can. Now put on a smile or your tips won’t add up to shit.” 

 

Luisa actually feels like she’s travelled back in time as they pull up to a dusty-looking diner. 

 

A neatly-groomed man steps out to greet them at the door, arms crossed and stony-faced.

 

“Well I’ll be damned.” 

 

Behind his fearsome front a grin escapes the corner of his mouth. 

 

“I was telling the girls how you needed some help, David. Susie ain’t gotten so big for her britches she can’t put on an apron.” 

 

“They throw you out of Tuscaloosa?” 

 

“Something like that.” 

 

Granny quickly ushers Luisa inside to find a uniform to fit the brunette as the cousins catch up with one another. 

 

“You could have at least stayed in touch.” 

 

“I got scared. And selfish. And big for my britches, too, I guess.” 

 

David’s excited demeanor chills. 

 

“And now you need help again so you’re back in town.” 

 

“We look out for family, right?” 

 

He puts a lanky arm around her shoulder. 

 

“We do. No matter who they are or what they’ve done.” 

 

They stand in silence, surveying the view from these doors that hasn’t seemed to change at all in twenty years. 

 

“Lunch rush is fixing to head in. Let’s get you suited up.” 

 

Susanna nods and follows David inside. 

 

“And Susanna?” 

 

“Yes?” 

 

“You better tell me  _ everything  _ about that lady friend of yours.” 

 

“She’s not-” 

  
“ _ Everything.”  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nothing like the 'ol sharing a bed trope, amirite!? 
> 
> your thoughts are always appreciated. 
> 
> may the lord petra jesus bless you and keep you.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luisa and Susanna settle in to their new status quo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly, if you are still reading this, thank you <3 
> 
> i think i need to reignite the flame of my adoration for Luisa Alver, so this could be slow going for a while, but I'm trying to keep pushing through. Hopefully this isn't too much of a chore to read as a result.

Luisa does  _ not  _ do uniforms. But at this moment, she’s a bit nostalgic for the crisp white of the Marbella’s staff. Because the polyester dress that Granny forces her into is something straight out of  _ Grease.  _

 

“Lookin’ good,” Susanna whistles when she emerges from the supply closet. 

 

“Yeah, well, at least I’m not wearing a hairnet,” she retorts.

 

Equipped with a pen, pad of paper, apron, and the barest of instructions from the management,

(“Take orders. Bring them to the kitchen. Deliver the food.”) Luisa straightens her shoulders and heads out to her first table. 

 

All in all, it’s not as much as a disaster as it could have been- she spills one water and forgets “no onions” on one burger, but most folks end up with the right food and very little in the way of catastrophe. 

 

The lunch rush clears out, and Susanna comes out of the kitchen to help bus tables in the lull. They’re technically open continuously from noon ‘til six, but three o’clock is pretty much dead. 

 

A loner straggles in through the swinging door, metal bell clanging obnoxiously as he barrels into the restaurant. He’s the stereotype of every redneck Luisa has ever seen in film (which is to say, not very many, what with hating men and all); muddy boots, plaid shirt, trucker hat with a fishhook on the bill. His mouth gapes open when he sees Susanna. 

 

“Ho-leeee shit. Susie Barnett in the flesh! Am I seeing things?” 

 

The blonde rolls her eyes, barely acknowledging his presence. 

 

“Hello to you, too, Spencer. David needed help at the restaurant, I’m a grill master, here we are.” 

 

He hmmmphs some sort of understanding and hooks his thumbs into his pockets, sizing up Luisa. 

 

“Who’s this sweet thang? I already know all the women of this town- she must be new.” 

 

Susanna moves to tell him off, but Luisa can take care of herself. 

 

“Her name is Luisa and she’s not interested in you, asshole.” 

 

He puts his hands up in defense. 

 

“Whoa, nelly, I can take a message. Jeez.” 

 

David, hearing the commotion, shuffles out from the back room to investigate. 

 

“Spencer! You weren’t supposed to be off work til’ five.” He looks a bit suspicious. 

 

“Guilty as charged. Pulled some strings so I could come by and see ya on my break.” 

 

He gives David a short peck on the cheek before walking up to the dessert counter to pilfer a couple of cookies. 

 

“Looks like a lot has changed since high school, huh?”  Susanna wonders if there were signs- she was so intent on keeping her own queerness a secret she didn’t even think to pick up on anyone else’s. 

 

“The heart wants what it wants, right,” Spencer manages between bites of chocolate chips, “and the way to a man’s heart is his stomach.” 

 

David rolls his eyes. 

 

“You’ve put on thirty pounds since we got together. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’re only with me for the food.” 

 

Spencer shrugs. 

 

“More to love, David. More to love.” 

 

Susanna smiles at the scene before her, while Luisa looks like she’s seeing aliens touched down. 

 

“And Lu, for what it’s worth, I’m not particularly interested in you either, unless you’ve got some dirt on Susie for us.” 

 

Luisa has dirt upon dirt, but revealing their whole kidnap/stolen face/on the lam from all kinds of authorities story is probably not the best way to make small talk. 

 

“She snores pretty badly.” 

 

“Hey!” 

 

_

 

The good thing about Bumfuck, Alabama is that it’s one of the last places on earth with honest-to-god payphones. After learning the ropes on closing up the restaurant, Luisa sneaks off while Susanna and David crack open beers and sit on the porch to eat a late dinner. She prays that her memory doesn’t fail her as she dumps her quarters and pounds the keys. 

 

Voicemail. Of course. 

 

“Hey, Raf, it’s Luisa. I know you’re probably worried about me, and I have to make this quick, but I’m safe, okay? If you haven’t figured it out, Rose is alive. I don’t have time to tell you everything, just, I’m safe. I’m safe, and I love you. And I’m sorry.” 

 

She hurries back to avoid suspicion and/or a search party. 

 

“There you are! Beer?” 

 

David gestures to the open 6-pack. 

 

(Honestly, she would love nothing more than to have a drink right now, but if she’s going to fall of the wagon, it sure as hell isn’t going to be for Keystone Light.) 

 

“Oh. Sorry, I was in the restroom. And I’m an alcoholic.” 

 

David looks mortified. 

 

“Don’t worry about it. Vodka’s my intoxicant of choice anyway, quick and painless.” 

 

He nods in understanding. 

 

“This stuff is pretty awful, David. Couldn’t you at least spring for PBR?” 

 

“Well, Susanna, if you hate it so much, you buy next time.” 

 

“Then you can cook.” 

 

Luisa bites into her burger. She can’t remember eating so much grease in a year, much less two days’ time. But it’s delicious. 

 

“This is amazing, Susanna. I feel extra guilty about that grilled cheese now.” 

 

Susanna smiles at the memory, despite the traumatic circumstances of her paltry offering. 

 

“Special tomorrow is grilled cheese and tomato soup. Brace yourself.” 

 

David stands and brushes off the crumbs from his khakis. 

 

“Lord knows what Granny’s up to- can I give you gals a lift home?” 

_ 

8 hours on her feet mean that Luisa hasn’t had time to think today. Except for her minute-long call to Rafael, her mind has been blissfully empty of thoughts of Rose, instead preoccupying itself with drink orders and alterations, balancing plates and calculating change. She doesn’t realize just how tired she is until she collapses on the bed, still in uniform. 

 

Susanna follows into the room from doing a brief security check of the property. 

 

“Let’s get you out of that uniform, Luisa. I promise you’ll regret it in the morning.” 

 

Luisa groans into the pillow and begrudgingly stands to remove the offending polyblend. 

  
  


“You know, if you didn’t look like someone I thought I had already fallen in love with, and we weren’t literally running for our lives, we would have had insanely good sex by now.” 

 

Susanna chuckles. 

 

“I don’t doubt it. To hear you tell, you’ve got quite a way with the ladies.” 

 

Luisa scoffs. 

 

“For good reason. I’m amazing in bed.” 

 

Susanna raises an eyebrow. 

 

“And I’m woefully old-fashioned. Serial monogamist.” 

 

“At least you’re not saving yourself for marriage,” Luisa mutters through worn cotton, as she slips an old t-shirt over her head. 

 

“No, though that was an excellent cover in high school. Turns out it’s very easy to keep a purity promise when the idea of having sex with men disgusts you.” 

 

Luisa’s heavy-lidded eyes widen at the curiosity of Susanna’s upbringing. 

 

“It’s like you’re from another planet. How did you even learn what a lesbian is?” 

 

“College. The internet.  _ Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe.”  _

 

“How many women have you slept with?” 

 

Susanna shakes her head. 

 

“No. We are not doing this. What happened to you being tired?” 

 

Luisa grins. 

 

“Turns out needling you is more fun. Soooooo? At my last estimate, I’m at 178, but there’s likely more that I don’t remember during my worst blackout years.” 

 

Susanna blushes. 

 

“You’re really not going to let up until I tell you, are you? “

 

“Absolutely not.” 

 

“Fine. Don’t laugh. Two.” 

 

Luisa is, frankly, too shocked to even contemplate laughing. 

 

“No way.” 

 

“Oh my god, they were both for several years. Don’t act like I’m a scientific curiosity. I’ve had plenty of sex, I’m just… consistent when it comes to partners. Go deep, not wide, as my writing teacher always said.” 

 

Luisa snickers at the unintended innuendo. 

 

“No wonder you’ve had so many. Sex is all you think about.” 

 

Luisa scoffs. 

 

“It’s not the only thing I think about. Just the majority. I have a very  _ active  _ imagination.” 

 

Throughout her teasing, Luisa has instinctually inched closer to Susanna until their bodies are only inches apart. 

 

“Maybe use that active imagination in your dreams, tiger.” 

 

Susanna takes a step back and moves to climb under the thin bedsheet. 

 

Luisa feels Susanna’s eyes trained on her ass before she pointedly turns away toward the wall.

  
She’s still got it.  


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pure smut, tbh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY FEW AND LOYAL READERS! I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN YOU! 
> 
> tbh i am kind of disappointed with lu's storyline this season, and had to find my way back to how much i love her. gonna try to follow this one through to the end, but it might end up being shorter than I first anticipated.

 

They settle into their routine of sorts over the next week. Eat. Work.Sleep. Luisa is familiar with numbing behaviors, and she doesn’t mind zoning out while they bide their time. But on Friday night, as Granny implores them to get ready to go to the aforementioned pep rally, Luisa loses it, anger bursting out of her before she can stop it. 

 

“Did you know I was a doctor before all this happened? A DOCTOR. You know, someone important, who helped people, who had a fucking purpose. I have no desire to watch a bunch of overly-testosteroned teenagers destroy shit to cement their place in the heteropatriarchy.” 

 

Her accent strengthens as her rage builds, and eyes are wide and wild. 

 

Granny simply raises a brow and crosses her arms, unimpressed. 

 

“You could have just said you have a headache, sweetie.” 

 

Luisa throws up her arms in surrender and stomps back upstairs to burrow under the covers and pretend that this terrible farce isn’t her actual life. 

 

Susanna sighs. “She probably shouldn’t be left alone, all things considered.” 

 

Granny nods, frankly a little sick of the drama that’s descended upon her house in the last 10 days. 

 

“Go process, or whatever it is y’all do. I should be back by 10. You know where the shotgun is.” 

 

Susanna takes a moment to regroup, leaning against the kitchen table as she hears the pickup loudly start and jolt down the gravel drive. Taking a deep breath in through her nose, she straightens her shoulders and cautiously climbs the stairs. 

 

“Luisa?” 

 

“She’s not here.” 

 

Luisa’s voice is muffled, wrapped in linen and tears. Susanna gently opens the door and sits beside the lump on the bed. Estimating, she rests a hand lightly on Luisa’s possible-shoulder. 

 

“You have every right to be mad. I’m sure that most things about our situation feel pretty insulting to you. I can’t say that I ever dreamed of returning to my kitchen days, or ever coming back here.” 

 

Luisa makes a little noise in the back of her throat and flops over, moving closer to Susanna, but still hiding her face. 

 

“We can find a way to get you back to Miami safely on your own. I’ll be alright here.” 

 

Luisa lowers the quilt, turning to give Susanna a scrutinous look. 

 

“You don’t have to do that.” 

 

Susanna’s lips set in a thin line as she nods. 

 

“Yeah, yeah I think I do. I didn’t think it was possible, but this place may just be worse for you than Rose’s compound.” 

 

Luisa sits up against the headboard, searching Susanna’s eyes with her own. She forces a wry smile. 

 

“Mainly because I haven’t had sex in three weeks. A woman has needs.” 

 

Susanna rolls her eyes, but doesn’t permit Luisa to fully deflect. 

 

“I was referring to feeling trapped and unhappy, but I suppose there may be a slight correlation between the two for you.” 

 

Luisa slumps back, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster of the past few hours. 

 

“Honestly, though, if I can make it through this without drinking, I might be able to stay sober for the rest of my life.” 

 

Susanna chews on her lip for a moment, letting the silence settle over them.

 

“You’re still important, you know.” 

 

Luisa frowns. 

 

“I indirectly led to the deaths of several people, lost my medical license, and destroyed what used to be a great relationship with my brother. I’m kind of the textbook definition of a fuckup.” 

 

“Doesn’t make you unimportant, though.” 

 

Susanna grabs Luisa’s hand for emphasis. 

 

She’s surprised at how warm it feels, how  _ strong,  _ and solid. 

“I’d say you’re pretty damn important to me right now.” 

 

The lump in her throat appears, uninvited. Luisa covers her hand with her own, rubbing her thumb gently across her knuckles as Susanna shakes off the tears that begin to prick at the corner of her eyes. 

 

“I’m sorry.” Luisa lets out a shaky exhale. “I’ve been so absorbed in my own crisis that I haven’t even let you feel your own emotions. This sucks for both of us.” 

 

Susanna shrugs. 

 

“It could be worse. One of us could be a dude.” 

 

Luisa laughs, rich and warm and  _ beautiful  _ (and where did  _ that _ come from?), and the tightness in Susanna’s chest opens up a bit. 

 

“Thank god for small blessings.” 

 

By now they’ve stretched out (as much as possible) on the mattress, lying on their backs and staring at the ceiling. Their arms maintain contact, pulse point to pulse point. 

 

“What do you usually do to feel better when everything sucks?”

 

Luisa drums her fingers along Susanna’s wrist as she poses the question. 

 

“Shoot things. Or go fishing.” 

 

“You’re disgustingly stereotypical.” 

 

“And yet you’re still flirting with me. How about you? Aside from drinking, I mean.” 

 

Luisa wracks her mind for any marginally healthy coping mechanisms she might possess. 

 

“Well, I used to talk to Raf, and that always helped. And then of course, there was all the sex. It’s very hard to be despondent when you’ve just had an amazing orgasm.” 

 

Susanna chuckles, but the quiet between them feels more charged than before. For all of Luisa’s banter, it never really felt like they were on the edge of anything more than distraction. Now, however… 

 

“Do you think people were having sex as the Titanic sank?” 

 

“How are you even so weird? Oh-  _ ohhhhhh.”  _

Susanna blushes, feeling vulnerable and exposed at making her thought process so nerdily clear. 

 

“I mean, if you knew that everything was doomed, wouldn’t you want one last moment of bliss?” 

 

Luisa turns to look at her, licking suddenly dry lips. 

 

“Yeah, I would. I definitely would.” 

 

Her eyes drop to Susanna’s flushed neck, the rise and fall of her chest with her quickened breath. 

 

Luisa slowly brings a hand to Susanna’s cheek, pushing a stray wisp of hair behind her ear, giving her time and space to back out of her ridiculous, foolish, stupid, irresistible suggestion. 

 

Susanna is fucking tired of backing out of things she wants. 

 

She leans forward with more intensity than she anticipated, and knocks Luisa to the mattress as they kiss. 

 

Desperate is really the only word for it. For its all its hackness, the sinking ship metaphor isn’t the worst in the world- if kisses were lifeboats they might stand a chance of survival. 

 

They’re not, and they won’t, but there isn’t time for thoughts like that right now. 

 

“Never in a million years would I have pegged you for a top,” Luisa gasps, as Susanna divests her of her flannel. 

 

“I’m not, usually,” she flings the aforementioned shirt aside and gets to work on kissing every inch of newly exposed skin, “but you really bring out parts of me I didn’t know existed.” 

 

Luisa smirks as she rids herself of her bra. 

 

“I can’t wait to see them.” 

 

“Shut up,” Susanna grunts, before finding better ways to render Luisa temporarily speechless. 

_ 

 

For a moment in the afterglow, it’s easy to pretend that this is a safe place. That they have time to bask, to curl into one another’s warmth like any two ordinary lovers. 

 

“I hate the word lover.” 

 

“Mmmmmphhhhhh.” Luisa burrows her face into the hollow of Susanna’s neck, inhaling deeply. 

 

“We should probably get dressed, before we scar Granny into a heart attack.” 

 

“Five more minutes. Humans need skin to skin contact.” 

 

“I’ll let you sleep naked if you put on clothes for the next twenty minutes.” 

 

Luisa cracks open one eye warily. 

 

“Deal.” 

 

The rumble of the pickup engine in the driveway hastens their motions. 

 

“On a scale of one to ten, how much do we smell like sex,” Luisa whispers ransacking the room before deciding that underwear is just not going to happen in the next thirty seconds. 

 

“Eleven. But to hear her tell it, Granny’s sense of smell hasn’t worked since she got hit in the head by that pitch fork in ‘93.” 

 

They manage to stumble downstairs by the time Granny makes it back into the kitchen, grumbling to herself about how “kids just don’t know how to wreck a car the way they used to.” 

 

“Hey, Granny, how was the pep rally?” Susanna can’t help the slight edge that raises her voice. 

 

“Pretty half-ass, but your car is toast, at least. That football team is sorry, though, I’ll tell you what. Those boys are in for a world of embarrassment this fall.” 

 

Luisa busies herself with rummaging for a midnight snack. 

 

Granny finally looks up to take in the still-disheveled younger women. 

 

“So you two finally fucked, huh? Thought you seemed happier than when I left. About damn time.” 

 

Susanna stands there gaping like a catfish for a few moments before Granny walks towards her own room. 

 

“I’m going to bed. Don’t be loud. And change the sheets.” 

 

Luisa presents a plate of sandwiches to a still-shocked Susanna. 

 

“Eat something. Before you pass out.” 

_ 

 

“Your grandmother is a very progressive woman,” Luisa comments, as she once more disrobes (though this time, she makes the effort to toss her clothes in a hamper).

 

“Seriously? After that, you’re going to sleep in the buff?” 

 

Luisa tosses her hair and shrugs. “It’s not like there’s anything to hide?” 

 

(Susanna is maybe more than a little swayed by her magnificent breasts.)

 

“Besides,” she walks toward her, intent crystal clear, “as much as I enjoyed earlier, I still don’t think you’re a top.” 

 

Luisa guides Susanna to sit on the bed, before sinking to her knees and unbuttoning the blonde’s jeans. 

 

“We really ought to have a comparison, don’t you think?” 

 

Who could argue with that reasoning? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're reading this you're the fucking best <3 <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! 
> 
> Susanna Barnett Denial Squad 4EVER 
> 
> (Jenny Urman, I wouldn't even be mad if u stole this plot if it gave me my bb's back. think about it, k?)


End file.
